Skyrim: The End Times
by SpeCt3r1995
Summary: Legends. Stories. That's all that they were supposed to be. But dragons, the mighty beasts of myth and lore, were all too real. Led by the powerful being Alduin, the savage creatures returned, wreaking havoc across Skyrim. Now, a half-blooded elf named Mira, may be Tamriel's final hope.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is rapidly becoming my favorite story. In the beginning, it's somewhat confining to be working so closely with the canon, but I see so much potential for this once it moves along, my own characters and the readers' choices pushing it along it's own path rather than simply novelizing the game to the letter. Mind you, this will be similar, but the dialogue, events, and other factors will differ from the game. Enjoy the first chapter!**

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Chapter 1

'Dreary' is a word often used to describe the weather in the province of Skyrim, especially when it rained. Whenever it did, it was not a light, warm rain seen in other provinces of Tamriel, but rather a chilling downpour that soaked one to the bone. Thick grey storm clouds obscured the sunlight, making it nearly impossible to discern midday from the evening hours. In the midst of this rain was a lone figure, covered in a cloak riding atop a horse. The figure rode silently, head drooped slightly forward, and the hood obscuring their face.

The horse, as expected of the creatures of Skyrim, was a stubborn creature that pushed onward through the heavy shower. It couldn't hear its own footsteps, or see very far ahead of its own nose, but it marched on, being directed by pulls on its reigns, or subtle taps from its procurer's boots. The creature simply stomped along, silent as the rider.

Underneath the rider's cloak were tattered rags that had been worn from long weeks of travel. The rider wore no armor, but had a single sword strapped to their side using cloth as a makeshift scabbard, and a bow held onto their torso by its string. The sword was crafted from iron, and though not the best weapon crafted, had certainly been of use. The same could be said of the bow. Other than that, the only other thing carried by the lone traveler was bread, stale and soaked from the rain.

A bright white-blue orb hovered near the traveler. It was a glowing ball formed with magika, a spell known as candlelight. It offered some light for the journey, but proved to be of little help in a rainstorm such as the one that the traveler had found itself in. However, the rider found it soothing to have at least a small amount of light in the otherwise dark night. Light produced by something other than the savage lighting strikes.

The light suddenly went out. The rider jumped off of their horse and pulled the beast quickly to the side of the road. It was the same drill every time. As soon as someone else appeared on the road, the traveler would quickly pull the horse off to the side and await the other party's departure. The wise took no chances in a land like Tamriel.

The traveler knelt on the side of the road, watching intently as the group passed. They looked like some kind of military group, travelling in a caravan of horse-drawn carts. Many of them carried torches, shedding light on their group, and revealing the blue cuirasses and fur boots many of them wore. One in particular wore some type of fur coat. It was finery, often worn by upper class citizens of Tamriel. The rider was trying to leave Skyrim, but had certainly stayed long enough to recognize a Jarl when they saw one.

The traveler was so focused on the passing caravan that they didn't notice the footsteps behind them until a piece of wood broke with a violent snapping sound. The traveler's head snapped around to see what had made the noise, and was met with the view of an imperial soldier charging forward, brandishing a steel sword. Instinctively, the traveler reached up, gripped the Imperial's forearm, and flipped him flat onto his back. "Ambush!" someone yelled from the caravan.

The rider pulled the sword from its scabbard and began to fight against the Imperials now swarming from the hills surrounding the road. The traveler had no intention of aiding the caravan through the entirety of the fight, but at the moment there seemed to be no other option than to fight. The soldiers continued to come, and the rider cut them down as they did so. Sword after sword was knocked away as the rider desperately tried to hold the enemy at bay.

_Parry the lunge, kick him back, and give yourself room. Dodge the other's swing, and run the sword through his chest. Swing the sword high to either knock that one out, or kill him. Either way he'll be down. Keep the momentum, and swing lower to sweep that one's legs out from under him._ The traveler fought smoothly, not faltering or stopping. Lessons taught since childhood came to the rider's mind, causing them to fight more by instinct than thought. Imperial after imperial fell, only to be replaced by more.

The soldiers at the caravan were dealing with a similar dilemma. One man, Ralof, had drawn his own sword and was currently engaged with multiple enemies. A younger imperial stepped forward from the group of men standing against Ralof and raised his sword to attack. The stormcloak almost felt sorry for the boy, even as he batted the sword away with ease and bashed him over the head with the hilt of his own. He hoped he didn't kill the lad. "Come on!" he challenged the rest. "Is that all you can do?"

Two soldiers charged forward at the same time to attack Ralof. He displayed less mercy to these two. One was in the mud with a vicious slash across his torso, while the other dropped to the ground, his head a short distance from his body. If the others were demoralized by the display, they showed no sign of it. They charged as well, and Ralof fought to keep them at bay.

The sheer number of enemies began to overwhelm Ralof. They came from all sides, closing him in, trapping him like a skeever. One nearly achieved the killing blow, but suddenly and violently fell to the ground. Ralof looked down to see what had happened to him, and discovered that an arrow was protruding from the side of the man's head. A perfect shot to the temple.

He looked up again and saw a dark silhouette, just out of the reach of the torches' light. The figure seemed to be holding a bow in one hand, and currently stabbing an imperial through the eye with an arrow using the other. The stranger pulled the arrow from the imperial's head, whipped around, and shot another that was approaching it from behind. The arrow hit the imperial directly in the head, halting him in his tracks. Whoever this was, they knew what they were doing.

Ralof and the other stormcloaks continued to fight to defend the caravan, and the Jarl. The battle lasted for only another minute before a loud shout was heard, sounding louder than the thunder that accompanied the storm.

"Zun Haal Viik!"

All of the combatant's weapons suddenly flew from their hands and landed on the ground. "Stop!" yelled a commanding voice from one of the carts. Ulfric Stormcloak dropped from the wagon and stepped slowly to the middle of the group. No one made an effort to pick up their weapons, as they were all still in shock. No matter how many times one sees it, a Thu'um is still a rather intimidating thing to experience first-hand.

"I will not have this slaughter continue any longer." He turned to Ralof. "We have lost this battle, my friend. There is no need to continue this."

"But Jarl Ulfric…"

"No. We will not continue this fight. I will not stand by and watch Nords fall before me." He eyed the Imperials. "Regardless of what side they have chosen."

Ralof lowered his head, not daring to look the Jarl in the eye. When Ulfric gave an order, it was to be followed. Ulfric approached one of the imperials. "I remember a time that enemies fought each other like true Nords, not hiding in the bushes like damned animals." He gave a sigh of resignation. "I surrender."

The rest of the stormcloaks did the same, regardless of how they felt. They all yielded to the imperial troops, who began to bind their wrists.

The rider, however, would not go down without a fight. Before anyone could even react, the rider was in a dead sprint to the horse, still somewhere on the side of the road. Imperials tried to stop the traveler, only to have the cloaked figure effortlessly dodge them and continue running. It wasn't until the rider came closer to where they had left the horse that they noticed another figure approaching it. It didn't take long for the traveler to realize that the shady character was trying to steal the horse in all the confusion.

The rider continued the run, extending an arm, and catching the horse thief in the back of the neck with it. The man collapsed to the ground with an irritated grunt, and the rider continued running without so much as a glance back. Freedom was a mere ten paces away.

It was only five more steps when suddenly a sharp pain erupted in the traveler's leg. A quick look revealed that an arrow was now buried in the traveler's calf. Still, so close. The traveler desperately tried to crawl toward the horse, but it seemed that the Devines hated the traveler with a passion. Another lightning strike caused the horse to panic, and it galloped away. The pain in the traveler's leg, coupled with the exhaustion from battle proved to be too much. The traveler's journey, it seemed, had ended here.

Everything went black.

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**As this moves along I hope to get the audience thoroughly involved using reviews, PMs, and polls to their maximum potential. I hope you all are up for it!**

**Peace,**

**Specter**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am currently working on chapter three guys... please be patient. College level classes, as well as managing college applications and paperwork for the navy is taking a number on me. BUT ENOUGH OF MY COMPLAINTS. This is the second chapter with a few very minor edits for mistakes or just plain juvenile-sounding parts that bothered me. (EX: She knew she was in the company of rebels, "but not the leader of them") I don't know why, but that just sounded stupid to me. If anything else jumps out at you like that, or perhaps a spelling or grammatical error, please... submit a PM or review letting me know. enjoy!**

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Chapter 2

The horse heaved the old cart over another steep hill. This would have been challenging enough, but the horse was also dragging the weight of five people. The Imperial at the reins remained silent as he tried to keep the tired animal on the narrow trail winding through the wilderness. He glanced back for a moment to ensure none of his cargo had fallen off the back. Of the four people seated in the back, there was one man that returned his glare.

The Nord had his hands tied together, and was unarmed. However, if mere glares had the power to kill, the Imperial felt that he would now be lying in a pool of his own blood. Wanting to face forward as soon as possible, he checked the others quickly. The Jarl, Ulfric Stormcloak, remained staring at the wooden floor. The thief's eyes darted frantically back and forth, as if he was trying to find some means of escape. The Imperial's gaze shifted to the last of his passengers.

It was a woman. She seemed to be unconscious; her head was slumped forward and she didn't move. She had black hair, and fair skin. He didn't get a chance to take in any further detail before the Nord's piercing gaze in his peripheral vision became too much. He suddenly snapped himself around to face forward, just in time to direct the horse around another curve in the road. He could still feel the Nord's eyes burrowing into the back of his skull for a moment, but then he heard a slight shifting behind him and felt the man's gaze drift elsewhere. The Imperial silently thanked the Devines for that.

Ralof heard the woman in front of him stir before he noticed her move. His eyes had been fixed on the Imperial for the moment, so his ears were the only way he could have noticed. She lifted her head with what appeared to be a pained expression and took a short moment to slowly turn her head in both directions, most likely stretching stiffened muscles. She had kept her eyes screwed shut for the duration of this movement, and when she snapped them open, he was taken aback for a moment. Her eyes were a bright blue color with flecks of silver darting out from the pupils. It took but a moment for her to take in her surroundings, and then return Ralof's stare.

The two passengers sat in silence for a few moments. Ralof wasn't sure what to say. She, on the other hand, didn't know the man in front of her, and had no intention of beginning a conversation.

Her leg hurt, her hands were tied, she still felt tired, and she awoke to find a strange man staring at her. Admittedly, not the best start to a day.

The man cleared his throat, most likely speaking for the first time in a while. "Hey you", He began. "You're awake."

She stared blankly at him for a moment. She thought briefly of simply not responding, but decided against it. Even if she didn't know him, there was, at least, a certain sincerity to his tone that she could just pick up under his thick Nord accent. "So it would seem…" She said groggily. "What happened?"

"You were trying to cross the border, right? You walked straight into the Imperial ambush, same as us…" He paused, and looked to his left, before adding, "And that thief over there."

Her eyes shifted to the man sitting to Ralof's side. The man quickly spoke up. "Damn you stormcloaks! Everything was fine before you came along. Imperials were nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now." He looked over at the woman. "You there. You and me shouldn't even be here! It's these stormcloaks the Empire wants."

It took her a moment to realize that the 'thief' was the man that had tried to steal her horse while she was fighting. He must have not recognized her as the one who stopped him, or otherwise didn't bring it up.

An irritated look crossed Ralof's face for a moment, and he seemed to be preparing himself to put the thief in his place. However, something about the look of sheer hopelessness in the man's eyes softened his expression. Ralof was a man ready to die; a warrior. But he knew who he was fighting for. He fought for those who were not yet ready to give their lives so easily. He fought for those that had families, and friends that they wanted to live for. He fought for those who could not fight for themselves. He fought to give hope to those that had none. Something about the man next to him made Ralof feel as though he had failed in some way. If he could have, he would have put a hand on the man's shoulder to show his support. But because he couldn't, he simply said, "We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

The Imperial had grown annoyed at the talking that had suddenly started up behind him. "Shut up back there!" he ordered as he raised his hand to his forehead to soothe his growing headache.

Ralof considered yelling back in defiance to the imperial, but thought better of it. Instead, he decided to remain silent for a moment. He looked forward at the woman who was now studying the guard. She didn't look very dangerous. She had somewhat pale skin, black hair tied back in a way that it fell over her right shoulder, and looked extremely thin, as though she hadn't eaten in a while. Her eyes were slightly sunk in, as were her cheeks. He also noticed something else: A pointed ear barely visible behind her thick black hair. Ralof was actually surprised. He would have never guessed that she was an elf by her face. She looked back, and he averted his eyes just before they made contact again.

The woman began drifting in and out of consciousness as the cart slowly continued to its destination. Regardless of what the guard had said, apparently the two men had continued talking. She just wanted sleep… Maybe a bottle of mead or two. She made a mental note that the man to her right had a cloth over his mouth. _Thank the Devines_. She thought. _One less mouth._ She felt herself drifting off once more until suddenly the man across from her spoke to her directly. "What is your name?" he asked.

She wasn't sure if she was somehow involved in the conversation, or if the question had come up arbitrarily. "Mira", she replied after a moment's hesitation. He nodded simply and they continued on in silence. Until they reached their destination.

The man directly across from her, Ralof, if she had heard his name correctly, described the small town they were now approaching as Helgan. It wasn't much to look at. It seemed to be more of a small fort than a place where normal people actually resided. Other than the guardtowers and stone walls, the only other structures were small houses, each one seeming just large enough to shelter a family of three. The men in the cart were still talking, but she paid them no mind, taking in her surroundings rather than involving herself in conversation. It wasn't that she didn't like to talk; she actually loved to sit back in a tavern from time to time and meet new people, perhaps exchange stories of travels. She simply felt that this was neither the time nor place to hold idle banter.

Above them, the sky was calm, bearing no evidence of the tempest that had raged the previous night. There was a chill in the morning air, without so much as a breath of wind. Other than the horses' steady pace being tapped out in the mud, and peoples' hushed conversations carrying across the town, the air hung heavy with a foreboding silence. No birds sang, no insects chirped, and loud conversations typical of neighbors greeting each other were being held in the same hushed tones used by the soldiers. Mira didn't like it.

"Why are we stopping?" The thief asked, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Why do you think?" Ralof asked before answering his own question, "End of the line."

The carts came to a halt along a stone wall on the outskirts of the village. In the direction opposite from the wall were a few homes, and a lone guard tower looming high above all of the other buildings in Helgan.

Ralof looked at each of the other people in the cart before he fixated his gaze on Mira. "Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us."

As the all got to their feet, the thief managed to shout yet another desperate plea. "No, wait! We're not rebels!" he yelled.

"Face your death with some courage, thief" Ralof said flatly. Ralof could sympathize with the man for being afraid, but he had to draw the line for him at some point, preferably while the man still had some degree of dignity.

The man continued to beg for his life anyway, before being silenced by the Imperial officer. Mira managed to drop off of the cart without stumbling over her injured leg, and listened as the names were called, one by one.

"Empire loves their damn lists", someone said behind Mira. She turned toward the origin of the voice to see Ralof jumping off of the cart behind her. She couldn't help but smirk slightly at the annoyance in his tone, but the slight smile quickly fell to a stoic expression when she wrapped her mind around the situation she was in at the moment.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm", the guard said in a very foreboding tone. Mira's eyes widened for a moment. _The_ Ulfric Stormcloak? The leader of the Rebellion? How had she managed to miss that part? She knew she was in the company of two rebels, but not the leader of the damned uprising.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric", Ralof said, eyes following the man that silently walked forward. If the Jarl was afraid, he did not show it. He carried himself with a regal air about him, as if he were walking toward a podium getting ready to deliver a speech, rather than to a chopping block to be executed.

The block itself was situated fairly close to the guard tower that Mira noticed earlier. The jarl walked over, and made his way to the front of a growing crowd around the block.

"Ralof of…" The guard paused for a moment. "Riverwood."

Ralof stepped forward wordlessly. The guard continued. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

The thief stepped forward hesitantly. "Wait!" he pleaded. _Oh, here we go again._ Mira thought with a roll of her eyes. The man gave the same appeal as before, yelling "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" His cry seemed to fall on deaf ears, and he knew it. He stepped forward once more, before breaking into a run and tackling the captain out of his way. She stumbled, but didn't fall. "Halt!" She commanded.

"You're not going to kill me!" He hollered as he continued sprinting toward the edge of the town.

"Archers!" The captain yelled. Mira's eyes widened. Surely they weren't going to shoot him. Even if they were planning on executing the lot of them, they wouldn't just shoot one in the back if he ran.

Mira was proven wrong. Two archers raised their bows, stringing back iron-tipped arrows. The projectiles were then released, flying through the air, and then burying themselves in Lokir's back. He fell to the ground, squirmed for a moment, and then fell completely still. He died not much further than two houses from where he started.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The captain asked. Mira narrowed her eyes at the other woman, wishing for a good, sharp dagger and for her hands to be unbound, if only for a moment.

The man calling out names for the chopping block finally seemed to take notice of her. "Wait", he said. "You there, step forward."

Mira did as she was asked and stepped closer to the man. A perplexed look crossed his face, and he asked what he was clearly thinking. "Who are you?"

She gave him the same simple answer that she had given Ralof. "Mira."

His eyes drifted away from hers and landed on a spot slightly to the left of her face. He reached out, and with the quill he was using to mark off names, pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. He then looked back at her and met her gaze again. "Not many wood elves would choose to come to Skyrim alone." He said. She remained silent.

"Captain, what should we do? She's not on the list."

"Forget the list." The captain said. Mira nearly looked over to Ralof to see his reaction to the captain's comment. "She goes to the block."

"By your orders, captain." He looked back at Mira, and a genuine apologetic look crossed his face. "I'm sorry. We'll see that your remains are returned to Valenwood."

Mira was surprised again. He actually seemed like he meant that statement. She wasn't sure if that's where she wanted her remains to go, seeing as how she had never lived in Valenwood, but she appreciated the sentiment.

The captain began walking toward the block, and the man gestured for Mira to follow. "Follow the captain, prisoner." He said with a sullen tone.

She simply looked at him for a moment, and then proceeded to follow the vile woman that was the imperial captain. Once they reached a crowd that was surrounding the chopping block, the captain stopped, turned around, and pointed sternly at the ground, gesturing for the elf to stay where she was. _I'm not a damn dog, _Mira thought. _Mara, give me patience_.

The captain took her place beside a priestess a short distance away from the chopping block. Nearer to the spot where the rebels' lives would be taken, were the executioner, and the imperial from earlier. Mira also noticed that another imperial was approaching. General Tulius, if she remembered correctly. Although she tried to ignore it, some of the conversation that Ralof was having with the thief still managed to seep through the veil around her mind.

The general approached Ulfric, only stopping when they stood nose to nose. Ulfric grunted through the cloth wrapped around his mouth.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some people around here call you a hero", Tulius said calmly. "But a hero doesn't murder his king and usurp his throne!" The general spat, venom dripping from the last few words.

Again, Ulfric could only grunt and glare angrily at the Imperial General.

"You started this war and plunged Skyrim into chaos! Now the empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace." Suddenly, a strange sound resonated through the crisp morning air. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, surrounding the gathering. It sent a chill down Mira's spine.

"What was that?" A guard asked.

"It was nothing", Tulius said, before turning and striding off in the opposite direction. "Continue with the execution", He told the Imperial officer as he passed.

"Yes, General Tulius!" She acknowledged. "Give them their last rites." She instructed the priestess.

The priestess nodded. "As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the eight Devines be upon you."

Mira pursed her lips slightly at that part of the speech. Her eyes drifted downwards, to her chest. Inside of the tunic, her amulet of Talos still hung around her neck.

"Oh, for the love of Talos!" A man yelled, stepping forward. "Just shut up so we can get this over with!" He said, approaching the block.

The priestess stopped abruptly and looked curiously at the officer. The woman merely nodded and approached the rebel from behind. "As you wish", she said, stopping behind him.

"Let's go!" the man rushed. "I don't have all morning."

With that, the Imperial officer shoved the man forward onto his knees, and then pushed him down onto the block with her foot.

"My ancestors are smiling at me imperials, can you say the same?" He asked, never looking away from the officer or executioner. He defiantly stared them down, even as the executioner's axe came down on his neck.

Mira wasn't sure why, but for some reason she closed her eyes and looked away. She'd witnessed death before, but this was just… Pointless slaughter.

Random shouts came from the crowd and prisoners alike.

"Justice!"

"You Imperial Bastards!"

"We'll make you pay!"

Ralof spoke as well, only his voice wasn't raised in a shout of anger. In the midst of the shouting and discontent, he simply muttered in a sullen tone, "As fearless in death, as he was in life. Talos guide you brother."

The Imperial officer became annoyed. "Enough!" She shouted. "Next, the wood elf!"

Another deep roar came from the sky, louder this time.

"Captain, did you hear that?" asked the Imperial soldier near the executioner.

"Enough Hadvar! I said, next prisoner." She said slowly, obviously losing her patience.

Hadvar bowed his head slightly, as if in submission. "By your orders, captain." Hadvar turned to Mira. "To the block prisoner, nice and easy." Something about his tone… Apologetic, perhaps?

As she passed Ralof, he gave her a quick nod of respect, which she returned. It wasn't as if they were the best of friends, but he might have been the last friendly face she would ever see. Also, he hadn't given her any reason to dislike him.

Another few steps, and she stood before the block. To her left lay the body of the dead stormcloak soldier, its head only a short distance away, in the basket just beyond the block. The head was face-up in the basket, its face still locked in a defiant glare, and its eyes were dilated, looking off into the endless abyss of the sky. The block itself was still soaked with blood, with a clean line indicating where the axe had come down, severing the soldier's head. Mira involuntarily gulped as she imagined her head being the next one in the basket. She briefly wondered what it would look like, but then banished the thought. She did, however reach the decision that it would not carry a fearful expression. The Imperials wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.

She kept up her defiant façade, trying to calm her heart, even as the Imperial Captain pushed her forward, and used her foot to get her in the proper position to be executed. Mira had to stifle a surprised gasp as her head hit the wet surface of the block. It was still slick with blood. She looked up at the executioner, as he hefted his massive axe high over his head.

Her eyes widened in shock. Not at the man brandishing a weapon meant to end her life, but rather at something in the distance.

Another roar pierced the air, nearly deafening this time. Surprised, the executioner stopped mid-swing, and looked behind him.

"What in oblivion is that?" A guard yelled.

"It's in the clouds!" another shouted.

"Sentries, what do you see?" The captain barked over the commotion.

It didn't require a sentry to see it when it landed on the roof of the guard tower. Its sheer weight nearly toppled the building right then and there, but the structure held. Looking directly at Mira from its perch was a massive, winged creature. The sort that was spoken of in tales and legends for ages. Even Mira, being somewhat new to Skyrim, knew what the beast was.

"Dragon!" Someone shouted.

The creature then did something that Mira didn't expect. It spoke. Though she didn't hear exactly what it said, she could definitely make out a word when it opened its massive maw again. A few moments after it did so, clouds began to form in the sky. _What in oblivion?_ Mira thought, looking up at the gathering tempest. She no longer noticed the fact that she was still laying in a puddle of blood, or that the crowd around her had scattered. Her eyes remained firmly locked on the creature, which had still not looked away.

Nothing could have prepared her for what happened next. Rather than rain, a massive, flaming rock fell from the clouds and impacted mere meters from where she still lay. The shockwave knocked her back, but she was able to gain a footing.

The dragon actually looked… Irritated. It opened its jaws yet again, this time shouting a single word that she could make out slightly clearer. **"Fus"**

A shockwave flew from the mouth of the dragon, impacting with the side of Mira's body. Had it not been for her injury, she might have been able to right herself and begin running. But the wound in her leg caused her to stagger, and fall face down into the dirt. Her hair was still soaked with blood, her body was exhausted, and her leg throbbed in pain. She was in no condition to escape, and she knew it. She remained still on the ground, waiting for the end.

However, it seemed the Devines were not ready to give up on her just yet.

She felt a hand grip her upper arm and begin pulling her to her feet. "Let's go! The gods won't give us another chance!" She was too drowsy at the moment to register who it was, but the person that helped her to her feet was now supporting her weight as they both ran across open ground, running for the relative safety of the tower. The ground beneath them shook.

Mira spared a glance backwards to see the source of the quake, and was rewarded with the image of the beast's open mouth. **"Yol Toor Shul"**

A spout of flame erupted from the dragon's maw, threatening to engulf them. By this point, the other person was practically dragging Mira through the open doorway. "Close it!"

The door closed behind them, shutting out the inferno.

Mira felt herself being placed on the floor, and she didn't struggle. All she wanted to do right now was curl up in a corner and sleep for a week. But that could wait for a while longer. Mira shook her head to clear it, desperately trying to clear the blur in her vision. When the smudge of colors before her finally began to come together into a clear image, she found herself in a room filled with Stormcloaks. Wounded soldiers were laid out on the ground, being tended to by one of the other soldiers, who, in retrospect, didn't appear much better than those he was tending to.

"Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?"

"Legends don't burn down villages, Ralof."

"Talos protect us."

A particularly loud explosion from outside shook up the group. "We have to keep moving", Ralof said. He looked up, examining the guard tower's spiraling staircase. "Up, through the tower!"

Ralof looked over at Mira, who was just getting to her feet. Albeit a bit shakily.

"Are you fit to travel?" He asked.

Mira thought of a dozen different things she could say to him in response to that stupid question, but in the end settled on a quick nod.

"Let's go!" Ralof yelled, dragging Mira behind him as he sprinted up the stairs. Eventually, she began to feel adrenaline taking over, and was able to run up the stairs with no assistance. She managed to pass Ralof- which was no easy feat given that her hands were still tied- and began devising different escape routes accessible from the top of the tower as she went. Her planning, however, was cut short as the dragon's head erupted through the wall from the outside of the guard tower. She was thrown backwards from the sheer force of the impact, and would have fallen, had Ralof not been there to stop her. The stormcloak that was standing near the opening, however, was not nearly as fortunate. First, he was thrown by the initial blast, and was then engulfed in fire from the dragon's mouth.

Mira listened to him scream in agony for the better part of a minute before she realized that Ralof was trying to get her attention. "Elf. Elf! Mira!"

She looked at him, trying to keep as calm as possible. "What? Did you find a way out?"

"More or less." He said, looking out of the newly created window. Outside, the firestorm still raged, and imperials scuttled about, shooting arrows and spells into the sky. What Ralof was pointing out, however, was an inn that was a short distance away from the opening. "Do you think you can make that jump?" He asked.

"Only one way to find out, right?"

"We can't take our wounded this way, we'll find another way out, and meet up with you outside."

"Got it." She said as she ran toward the opening. She dove forward, hoping she had judged the distance to the inn correctly. Luckily, she was able to land without much of an issue. Her upper back hit the floor first, and she then rolled to her feet. Immediately upon landing, she scanned the room for a way down the ground floor. The door way leading to the staircase was collapsed, but then, so was the floor in the corner of the room. She sprinted to the collapsed corner, and dove through the opening in the floor just before a massive column of flame consumed the upper floor.

She looked up, beginning to worry. She wasn't certain before, but now it was fairly obvious. If this dragon had one objective in this senseless attack, it was to kill her. Without a any further hesitation, she ran out of the building, looking around for Ralof or any of the other stormcloaks. Instead, she ran into the same imperial soldier from earlier; Hadvar.

He was shouting orders to the civilians in the town, desperately trying to keep them alive. So far he seemed to be having little success. The only two that she could see were still alive were an older gentleman and a young boy. Still, it was something.

"Still alive prisoner?" He asked. "Keep close to me if you want to stay that way!" He shouted, trying to yell over the explosions and flames raging through the town. At the moment, the dragon was flying in slow circles around Helgan, practically toying with the defenders. Arrows and magic bolts continued to fly upwards in a futile attempt to down the beast.

"Gunnar, take care of your boy!" Hadvar told the man.

"Gods guide you Hadvar." The man responded gratefully, before picking up his son and running off in a different direction.

Without another word, Hadvar began to lead the way through the mess of crumbled buildings, roaring flames, and confused soldiers, trying to keep Mira alive. She briefly wondered why. They were planning on killing her anyway. Why not just let the dragon do their job and be done with it? Then again, this man appeared to be different from the others. However, she was still wary of him.

"Stay close to the wall!" He suddenly shouted, pushing her up against a stone wall nearby. As soon as he did so, the dragon's head appeared over the wall, hosing down another regiment of imperial soldiers with fire.

"Thanks", she said, still surprised that he was bothering to protect a person accused of being a stormcloak sympathizer.

"Don't mention it. Now, quickly, this way!" He yelled, sprinting off yet again. She followed, on three occasions nearly stumbling over rubble, but still she ran. "It's you and me prisoner! Stay close!"

He came to an abrupt halt.

Standing just ahead of him, brandishing a steel sword, was Ralof.

"Ralof, you damn traitor! Out of my way!"

"Not this time Hadvar, we're escaping! And there's nothing you can do to stop us!"

Hadvar seemed as though he was about to protest, when another fireball impacted on the ground between the two warriors. Both jumped back at the same time, and shortly thereafter came to the same conclusion. Now was not the time to fight.

"Fine!" Hadvar shouted. "I hope that dragon takes you all to Soverngarde!" He stared running toward one entrance to the keep beneath the city. "With me prisoner! Let's go!"

"Mira, we need to get out of here! Come on!" yelled Ralof, running toward another entrance.

Mira looked back and watched as the dragon picked up an imperial, carried him high into the air, and dropped him, roaring with glee as the man's body impacted with the ground with a sickening _crack_. The creature then took notice of the small wood elf watching it from across the town and began to close the distance.

With no time left, Mira made her choice, and ran into the keep.

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**I literally have Microsoft Word open in my computer while I type these author's notes on the site. The third chapter is about halfway done right now, and it should be completed soon. Thanks guys! It really does mean a lot when I see that ninety-something people have read my story, and three of them decided to submit a review. Your decisions throughout this fic will cause major deviations in the story, including alternate endings, if I make it that far. So this is as much your story as mine.**

**Peace,**

**Specter**


	3. Chapter 3

**Finally, my next chapter. Really sorry about the wait guys. Schoolwork keeps me from even touching this, and then when I do, I just go back and edit some things, close it out, and play xbox with friends. I know it's a crap excuse, but it's the truth. Finally, after arriving from a friend's house, I just pounded out the rest of this chapter in an hour or so. So there may be mistakes. I'll go back and fix them later, but for now, in my drowsy state of mind, this is just absolutely fantastic. So, sit back, relax, and enjoy this chapter of Skyrim: The end times on your computer or mobile device. Whatever you read on.**

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Chapter 3

Mira stopped in the center of the room, panting heavily. She stumbled about a meter or so and sat down against one of the cold stone walls, thankful for a moment to stop and rest. As she sat there with her eyes closed, steadying her breathing, she thought about the attack. Why did the dragon want her dead? Where did it come from? If it could speak, could it possibly be intelligent?

She deemed the last consideration as unlikely, seeing as how if the creature was intelligent, it would have known that it could have just allowed the executioners to do their job. Instead, it unintentionally saved her life. Mira smirked. _Saved by a dragon. _She thought. _That's an interesting story to share over a drink._

"Gunjar…"

Mira opened her eyes, looking at the man with whom she had entered the keep. Ralof knelt beside a fallen stormcloak soldier, a saddened look on his rugged face. His head hung low, and his long blonde hair nearly obscured his facial expression. Nearly. "We'll meet again in Soverngarde, brother."

With a great deal of effort, Mira stood, and walked slowly over to where Ralof mourned his comrade. She wasn't sure what to say, so she merely placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Or, rather, tried to. Because her hands were still tied, she instead clasped his shoulder with both hands, hoping he understood the sentiment. He bowed his head slightly to his friend once more before standing up and turning to Mira. He held in his hand a knife, which he had pulled from the body.

"Looks like we're the only ones who made it", he stated. His voice wavered slightly, but for the most part he was able to keep a level tone. "That thing was a dragon. No doubt. Just like the stories and legends. The harbingers of the end times."

That thought sent a slight chill down Mira's spine. These dragons were to bring about the end of the world? She found it hard to believe, but after seeing how much damage one could cause… She could hardly bring herself to imagine what it would be like if there were more.

"We'd better get moving", Ralof advised. "Come here. Let me see if I can get those bindings off."

He held onto her left forearm as he used the knife to cut through the rope tied around her wrists. At last, she was able to pull her hands apart, letting the cut ropes fall to the ground. Her wrists were red, imprinted with the ropes' pattern; both from the fact that they were bound tightly, and from her constant pulling on the bindings, unintentional or otherwise. She stretched out, enjoying her newfound freedom of movement.

As she rubbed her wrists, trying to alleviate some of the discomfort, she looked over at Ralof. He was a Nord, there were no doubts in her mind about that. His blonde hair, blue eyes, and facial features were about the only things that could make him stand out among the locals of Skyrim. Other than that, he had the same stocky build expected of those tough or insane enough to brave the harsh climate of the land.

During these few second of silence, Ralof was able to look Mira over as well. She was a good head shorter than he was, and, as he had observed earlier, she was very thin. Though not exactly skin and bone, her facial features were slightly sunken and her limbs seemed to be very frail. Nonetheless, she had proven that she was still more than capable in a life or death situation. Despite the current state that she was in, she still looked rather attractive. Her short nose, thin eyebrows, and bright silvery blue eyes seemed more reminiscent of a young imperial noble, rather than an elf. Still, her pointed ears that protruded from her raven black hair reaffirmed that she was the latter.

Uncomfortable with the silence, Ralof began to check the exits to the room, speaking as he did so.

"You may as well take Gunjar's gear. He won't be needing it anymore", Ralof said as he tried one door.

She looked down at the body. The blue fabric, no doubt concealing chainmail, would offer her both protection and warmth. However, after seeing the expression on Ralof's face as he honored his fallen comrade, she couldn't bring herself to defile the corpse; stripping it bear of clothing for her own sake. "I can tell that he was a friend of yours. I don't feel as though that would be showing the appropriate amount of respect." She responded.

This was the first time that she had spoken since arriving in the keep. And also the first time that Ralof was able to listen intently to how she spoke. It was strange; she didn't speak in the harsh Nord accent he heard from the other inhabitants of Skyrim. Her accent was softer, almost soothing. It was somewhat reminiscent of how many Dunmer spoke, but less pronounced. He was still in mid thought when he tried the first door. "Damn", he muttered. It was locked. Using a louder voice as he walked to double check the gate on the opposite side, he called back to her. "You need it more than he does."

"Clearly you haven't seen me fight." She quipped.

He gave an irritated grunt, not happy with the results of his search for an exit. "Actually, I have. You saved my life, in fact. That imperial might have killed me", he admitted.

"I'm sure you would've been fine." She said. "You seem to be able to handle yourself."

Ralof didn't respond, silently taking a seat against the wall near the gate. "I don't suppose you fancy another run through the town?"

"I'd like to avoid that, if possible", she replied, taking a seat on the side of the gate opposite to his. "No other way out?" She asked.

"That door is locked", he said, pointing to the other side of the room. "And this gate doesn't open from our side. So it seems the only way out is the way we came in."

"Just wait a moment. We'll figure something out."

As though the Devines themselves noticed their dilemma, she heard footsteps resonating from the hallway. Just as she was about to stand, Ralof gestured for her to stay low, sliding an axe across the ground between them. He mouthed the words _be ready_. She nodded, and gripped the axe firmly in her right hand as she brought herself to a hunched position, ready to pounce on whoever came through the door.

"Get that gate open!" a familiar voice ordered.

Mira grinned wickedly. Revenge was sweet.

The gate slid open, and three imperials walked through. Two guardsmen, and the captain from earlier.

Immediately, Mira jumped up and buried the axe into one of the Imperial's necks. The man elicited a shocked gurgle of some sort before dropping to the ground, bleeding profusely. Immediately, the captain turned to Mira and drew her weapon. The other guard was about to come to her aid, but was stopped by Ralof's knife digging into his side. Though he wasn't dead, he was at least occupied with the stormcloak.

Mira returned her attention to the Imperial Captain, lashing out with her axe. The rapid swings weren't aimed anywhere specific, they were just meant to keep the captain on the defensive. It worked, for a few moments. One of Mira's clumsy swings traveled in a much wider arc than she had intended, giving the Captain an opportunity to slash at Mira.

The Imperial's attack was aimed low, threatening to cut open Mira's midsection. She pulled her torso back, keeping her feet in the same place, effectively making a crescent shape with her body. The maneuver allowed the blade to swing past harmlessly. As soon as she returned to a fighting stance, Mira swung her axe in a downward arc, as hard as she possibly could. As expected the captain raised her sword to parry, and stopped the attack.

Mira placed her free hand against the captain's stomach and tried to focus. Her palm began to feel warm. The heat traveled to the very tips of her fingers, and soon her entire hand was glowing a bright orange color. Within just two more seconds, a bright stream of fire erupted from Mira's hand, igniting the other woman.

The captain screamed in pain, dropping the ground to try to extinguish the flames. Mira calmly, but firmly, place her axe on the burning woman to keep her in place, and tried to call forth one more blast. This time, the fire was focused into a single, super heated bolt that hit the captain directly in the face, leaving only a smoldering crater.

"That was for Lokir, you bitch." Mira hissed.

She hefted the axe to her shoulder, and looked up to see Ralof staring at her with a shocked expression.

"What?" She asked. "She deserved it."

Ralof made a mental note to ask her why she hadn't used magic earlier, when the executioner was about to lop her head off. His question was answered when she started to sway slightly, looking as though she were a tree being pushed about by a breeze. She leaned up against the wall to keep from dropping to the ground. Ralof began walking over to help, but she waved him off.

"I'm fine." She said. "That spell just took a bit out of me, and I wasn't at my best to begin with."

She leaned against the wall for a minute or so, before pushing off and beginning to rummage through the dead bodies of the imperials. She didn't mind looking through their belongings. She took the steel greaves and vambraces from one of the imperial guards, and found a key in the captain's possession.

"See if this does the trick", she said, holding out the key. She also held out the axe, which he took. As he went to go check if the key worked, she pulled a steel sword from one of the guards and gave it a few practice swings. A cheerful exclamation from Ralof told her that the key worked.

"That did it!" he said. "Let's get moving."

The pair set off through a path of winding tunnels that continued to delve deeper into the ground. The walls were made from a dark grey stone, worn from age. Every few meters, a torch was mounted on the wall, giving the tunnels an eerie orange glow. Mira looked over to Ralof as they ran. A look of determination was etched across the man's face. Clearly he had no intention of dying in this underground chamber, or allowing that fate to befall Mira. He and Hadvar had both proven themselves men willing to put their own life on the line for complete strangers. Mira genuinely hoped that it didn't eventually cause harm to befall Ralof. Being too trusting was never a good thing. She also hoped that Hadvar made it out of the attack alive.

They rounded a corner and sprinted down a large tunnel. They hadn't made it far before the curved roof above them began to rumble, huge pieces of stone rubble falling from it. Mira and Ralof both halted immediately in their tracks. They watched helplessly as their best route out of the underground labyrinth was blocked off by stone.

"Now what?" Mira asked.

"Quick! This way!" Ralof shouted as he sprinted to a door on the left side of the hallway.

Mira followed him through the open doorway and nearly ran directly into an imperial soldier.

"Stormcloak prisoners!" One shouted.

Mira instinctively raised her sword, blocking the first strike from the soldier's blade.

Ralof had already engaged the other, his war ax's blade clashing loudly against the imperial's iron great sword.

Mira turned her attention back to her own opponent, who was apparently inexperienced in the field of sword fighting. He attacked with powerful, yet clumsy swings that left him wide open every time he drew his sword back to swing again. On his third swing, she simply ducked underneath a horizontal swing of his blade, allowed him to stumble across the room from his own momentum, and ran the blade through his torso once his back faced her.

She turned to check how Ralof was doing, and looked just in time to see him cut off the imperial's head with his ax.

Both stood in the center of the room trying to catch their breath for a few moments. Mira took the time to observe her surroundings. They were in some kind of storage room. There were a few shelves along the wall, each one stocked with a few provisions; food, drinks, and potions being the most prominent. She approached one of the shelves, helping herself to an apple she found on one. She picked up another and tossed it to Ralof, who caught it and took a large bite out of the fruit.

Ralof chewed for a moment, watching as Mira dumped the contents of a potato sack she had found and began filling it with potions and a few more apples. He spoke up when he noticed her reaching for a bottle of mead. "Take only what you need", he said between bites.

"I do need this. A drink for the road." She replied with a large grin on her face.

"Fine." Ralof conceded, wanting to keep moving. "But only take one."

Disappointed, Mira placed the second bottle she grabbed back on the shelf and tied the bag onto her back using spare rope she found. She was resourceful, Ralof noted with a smirk. Perhaps they would make it out after all.

"Got everything?" He asked. She nodded. "Then let's go."

He led the way out of the room and ran down another series of corridors, eventually coming to a stop halfway down a staircase when he heard combat ahead. He looked into the room, noticing rusted cages, beaten corpses, and tools still dripping some poor soul's lifeblood all over the ground. "Troll's blood…" He muttered. "It's a torture room."

He finally found the source of the sounds of struggle; a lone stormcloak, desperately trying to fend off an imperial torturer and his assistant. The former raised his hand, calling forth a surge of lighting to strike the soldier. The rebel dropped to the ground, his burnt flesh still smoking.

"No!" Ralof shouted, suddenly charging into the room ahead of Mira. Before she could even register what was happening, the torturer and his assistant were laying in pools of their own blood. Ralof cleaned off his blade on one of the Imperial's tunics, and turned to see Mira, still on the stairway, with a thoroughly shocked expression clear on her face.

"What?" he asked. "They deserved it."

Mira shook off her disbelief and followed him into the room.

"Shor's bones, look at all this", he said. He turned toward one of the cages. Inside, there was a dead mage, accompanied by a tome and gold strewn across the floor.

"We may need that gold once we get out of here", Ralof commented.

"Look around for a key", Mira said, as she began to look through the imperials' belongings.

"Here", Ralof called. "Look at this."

Mira dropped allowed the corpse she was searching to drop to the ground and walked over to Ralof. He was holding a bag upside down, emptying its contents onto a small table. A few lock picks and septims dropped out.

"Think you can use these?" Ralof asked.

"Of course," She replied. She walked over to the cage with the mage's body inside. She examined the lock, determining that it wouldn't take much effort to open. "I need a knife."

Ralof obliged, pulling a dagger from its sheath on his side, and handing it to the elf.

She placed the knife into the key slot, as well as the lock pick. After only a moment of fiddling, the lock popped open. She beamed at Ralof as she handed him his knife.

"It's never too late to change lifestyles, you know," He jested.

She rolled her eyes and opened the cage. Mira collected the gold, and then looked over at the mage. The robes he wore would keep her warm, and also light on her feet. She handed Ralof the gold and began removing the mage's robes.

"We should keep moving," Ralof said.

"Just a moment," she replied as she finished removing the last bit of clothing, other than his underwear, of course. She didn't want to see any more of the old, boney, shriveled man's body than she had to. She then began removing the worn tunic that she had been wearing for the past few weeks.

Ralof quickly turned away as she pulled the tunic over her head.

She chuckled slightly when she noticed this, and spoke, breaking the silence that had suddenly formed. "Surely I am not that unappealing," She teased.

"You're not." Ralof said.

"What then? Have you not seen a woman in her undergarments before?"

"On the contrary, I used to be sweet on a girl from this place."

She pulled the trousers of the mage's attire up her legs as she inquired, "Used to?"

"She was killed by imperials."

She pulled on the rest of the ensemble, tucking her hair into the hood. She looked at him. He was still facing away, carrying her bag in both hands. He didn't move, staring intently at the blood-stained wall in front of him.

She placed the tome, a destruction spell book, within a satchel that the mage had kept hanging from his left shoulder, and approached Ralof from behind. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, properly this time, and spoke softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright." He said, cutting her off. "She was a noble, brave woman. She waits for me in Soverngarde, I'm certain of it."

He turned around, looking at Mira. She was now clothed fully in tan mage's robes. They seemed to fit her well, seeing as how the mage that she had taken the robes from hadn't been a particularly tall fellow. The robes also hugged her sides, emphasizing the shape of her body. Her hair spilled out from the right side of the hood, settling over her shoulder. Also, she had tied the vambraces and greaves on once again, keeping at least a small amount of protection.

"Well, I'm afraid she'll have to wait a while longer," Mira said, trying to encourage Ralof to continue onward.

He nodded. "Right, let's keep moving."

She took the bag back from him and slung it over her shoulder once again. They started down a hallway, and it was not long at all before they once again heard the all too familiar sounds of combat.

They both crouched, trying to maintain the element of surprise. They advanced to the entryway, scanning the room before charging in. For Ralof, it was an instinct to assess an area before attacking, honed by fighting a guerilla war against the empire. For Mira, it was simply her survival instinct that she had developed over the course of her life.

The entryway led to a vantage point of sorts; a ledge that skirted along the sides of the room, providing high ground against any besieging forces that made it this far into the keep. Currently, it was in use, three archers drawing back their bows and releasing arrows into a skirmish happening below. On the ground level, three Stormcloak soldiers fought against as many imperials, swords clanging in vicious battle.

One Stormcloak took an arrow to the shoulder, shouting out in pain. His opponent quickly made short work of him, cutting him down where he stood.

"The other two will be overwhelmed!" Ralof exclaimed.

"Go help them then," Mira urged. "I'll handle the archers."

He nodded. "Good luck," he said before leaping down to join the fight.

Mira pulled a potion of majika from the bag she was carrying before setting it on the ground. She drank it, immediately feeling the effects, and then charged forward, drawing her sword. The first archer barely had time to react before the blade was stabbed through his neck, up to the hilt. Even as she pulled the weapon from the man's flesh, the others produced their own blades from scabbards, preparing themselves for a fight.

She heard a grunt of pain from below, but pushed it to the back of her thoughts. The two men advanced on her, murderous intent in their eyes. She took a deep breath, calming herself.

_Dodge the first, knock the second's blade away. Sink your blade into the second's chest, and hit the first with a flame spell._ It was simple. Quick. A lesson taught to her long ago in her youth. She looked down, watching as blood pooled around their bodies. She felt the same pang of regret she always did when she was forced to take a life. It was probably a good thing. The day that she stopped feeling that was the day that she became a heartless beast.

Only then did she notice the sound of voices, rather than battle, coming from below.

"You mean he didn't come through here?" She heard Ralof ask.

"No," A woman responded. "He may have found another route."

She reasoned that they must have been talking about Ulfric. She bent down and picked up one of the archer's bows, slinging it across her back. She then did the same with the man's quiver, fully stocked with iron arrows. She grabbed another bow and quiver, and leapt down to join the others, still in mid conversation, as though they hadn't just killed a group of imperials.

"And who might this be?" The woman asked. Her green eyes burrowed into Mira.

"A friend. She's the only reason I've made it this far," Ralof said firmly.

"I see…" The woman replied, her eyes betraying her wariness of the elf. She and Mira stared at each other for a few tense moments, before Ralof finally broke the silence.

"We should keep moving," He said, taking the extra bow and quiver that Mira had retrieved. "We're getting close, I can feel it."

"Go on ahead," the woman said. "We'll remain here, in case Ulfric comes through this way."

Ralof nodded in agreement. "Talos be with you both."

The Stormcloak man, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke, his voice deep and echoing. "Talos guide you Ralof."

With that, the two unlikely allies set off, coming to a gap bridged by an ancient-looking wooden platform. It was a draw bridge, able to be pulled up so as to prevent enemies from gaining entrance to the keep. It was currently retracted.

"Over here," Ralof said, walking over to an old, rusted lever. "This should do the trick."

With an audible grunt, he pulled the lever. The ancient mechanism rumbled, and the bridge dropped over the gap. He smirked. "Let's go."

She set into a slow jog. About halfway across, though, the wood beneath their feet began to rumble. Fist sized pieces of rock began to fall around them. She looked up, seeing a much greater amount of rubble collapsing downward toward them. "Move!" She cried.

She and Ralof dove across the rest of the way, landing with a thud barely audible over the sound of falling debris. A few chunks of stone did hit her, but for the most part Mira was unscathed. She pushed herself up off of the ground, dusting herself off as she did so. She tossed a glance over in Ralof's direction, and she noticed that he was doing the same. In all of the excitement, she had nearly forgotten about the dragon attack. Odd, considering it was the entire reason for her current situation.

Behind them, she could hear the sound of footsteps. "What happened?" The Stormcloak woman shouted.

"The bridge collapsed, Ada, but we're okay."

The Stormcloak, evidently named Ada, paused for a moment before finally shouting, "Keep going! We'll find another way out!"

"Are you certain? We can figure something out, I'm sure of it."

"Yes! Just keep going. If nothing else, we can backtrack and leave though the town once the Dragon is gone," Ada finished.

"Very well then, good luck," Ralof responded after a moment's hesitation.

"You too. And, elf…" She began, trying to get Mira's attention. Mira looked up. "Get him out of here alive. As far as I'm concerned, you're one of us now. We look out for each other," She stated, nodding at Mira. How quickly trust could be gained in a moment of necessity.

Still, Mira nodded back. "I will."

Both parties turned and left, venturing in opposite directions.

They came to a large, open cavern. This area was completely formed by the elements, rather than man-made as the previous area had been. Water dripped from stalactites scattered across the ceiling, and a small stream flowed through the center of the cave.

Ralof and Mira walked along the small stream, the Nord trudging through the water while the elf idly entertained herself by stepping from rock to rock. She quickly found herself lost in her thoughts once again. An ambush, a dragon attack, and a few battles later and she was already trusted by a few select individuals. The two other Stormcloaks could have easily killed her if that was what they had truly desired. A dagger to the back, and the stranger would be gone. The three friends would be able to leave without having to worry about the same being done to them. Why did they let her leave with one of their companions? Even before the bridge collapsed, Ada had been hesitant, but still allowed Ralof to leave their sight with only a stranger to watch his back. She would have thought that they would want to come along as well to keep an eye on the elf. That line of thinking brought her to another point.

Ralof.

The Nord had known her for all of a few minutes, and now there he was; leading the way without even a glance back to check on his travelling companion. Apparently he wasn't even trying to keep his guard up around her. But then, she was treating him much the same way. She actually felt as though she had a trustworthy person with her, for the first time in ages. She might have even gone as far as to think of him as a friend.

Her train of thought was lost as she bumped into the man ahead of her. He glanced back questioningly.

She shrugged. "Sorry."

He nodded and looked back ahead. She then noticed why he had stopped. The stream came to a dead end.

"Looks like this doesn't go anywhere," He said. "Come on, this way," He instructed as he began down a side path. She continued to follow him through another winding pathway until they came to another wide chamber. This one, however, was not quite as aesthetically appealing as the last. Rather than water, a thick web travelled from floor to ceiling, coating the walls, as well as some of the stone pillars that supported the weight of the cave. Whatever had mad these webs was not something that she wanted to tangle with.

Apparently, what she wanted was irrelevant. A loud hissing noise erupted from seemingly everywhere at once. The sound continued on, only to evolve into an ear splitting shriek that had Mira on her knees covering her ears, desperately trying to shut out the horrible sound.

"Get back to your feet, Mira! Things are about to get interesting!" She heard Ralof yell once the sound had died down. She got up, brought her bow to bear, and set an arrow on the string.

When she looked up, she could see what he was talking about. Four huge spiders came from the ceiling on thick lines of webbing. Two were roughly the size of skeevers, and about as disgusting as the little rodents as well. The other two were more along the lines of sabre cats in terms of size. The creatures moved to surround their dinner, the two larger ones taking up positions at the two entrances to the chamber. They were smarter than they appeared, it seemed.

Mira was the first to act, drawing back an arrow and letting it fly directly into one of the smaller one's multiple eyes. The arrow made a sickening sound as it entered similar to crushing a soft, ripe peach in your hands. The creature immediately slumped, one of its legs giving one final defiant twitch before falling still.

The other three closed in for the kill.

Ralof immediately went for one of the larger ones, leaping onto its back and driving his sword into its abdomen repeatedly. Mira made quick work of the other small arachnid with her bow, and turned her attention to the larger one. She let loose two arrows, aiming for the eyes once again. However, this spider refused to sit still, skittering to and fro with alarming speed. The arrows embedded themselves in the spider's exoskeleton, not causing any real damage. The creature was larger than she was, probably more powerful, and certainly faster. She charged forward, drawing her sword that was still at her hip.

The creature hissed in anger, and charged toward her as well. Once in range, it brought its fangs to bear. The sharp edges dripped with toxin, and were about as long as daggers. She leapt out of the way, and the razor sharp teeth sunk into the ground where she had just stood a moment before. She rolled to stay on her feet, sparing a glance to see how Ralof was doing. He was still trying to find the right spot to stab to make the stubborn beast die, which was immensely difficult when the creature wouldn't stop bucking like a mad horse. Finally his blade found the creature's brain, situated right behind the eyes, and the creature slumped. It still moved slightly, and Ralof gave it another good stab just to be certain.

She turned her attention back to her own enemy, only to realize that in the time that she had been watching Ralof, it had prepared itself for another strike. She turned to it only to see the underside of its body, its entire form reared back to give it enough power to stab straight through her body. She tried to beat the creature to it, aiming for the same spot that Ralof had struck on the other, only from beneath. However, the arachnid moved at the last moment, stabbing its fang deep into her arm.

She screamed, both out of pain and anger, but she couldn't help but smirk slightly at the sight of her own blade buried deeply into the creature's body. It collapsed in a heap, much how the others had, and died quickly. Mira pulled her blade from its carcass, in the same motion removing the spider's fang from her arm. Blood seeped from the wound, but she didn't care. She had won.

"Are you alright?" Ralof asked, crossing the room.

"I'm fine," She responded. "Let's just get out of this place already."

Despite her insistence that she was okay, Ralof tore a bit of cloth from his tunic and wrapped it tightly around the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. After her continued urging, they began to push onward, coming upon the home of a hibernating bear. Ralof readied an arrow to kill the beast, and make sure that it didn't cause any issues with their escape. However, Mira stopped him.

"Leave it alone," She said. "We can just sneak out. Follow my lead."

He did. They hugged the wall of the cave as best they could, remaining as far out of earshot as they could. The creature stirred at one point, but didn't wake. It remained in its peaceful slumber, even as its two unwanted guests saw themselves out.

They continued on, and Mira saw sunlight filtering through an opening at the end of the cave. Unable to contain it, Ralof voiced his enthusiasm, pounding towards the exit.

"Finally, a way out! I knew we'd make it!"

* * *

**Not bad, right? I'll try to get the next chapter up ASAP. (For real, this time) As far as I'm concerned, AC is on Haitus so all I'm doing on this site is this fic. No choices for this chapter, just kinda let it play out. Next time that there's a reader determined fork in the plot, I'll let you know in the A/N section. Which is this. Anyway, review or send me a PM with opinions and/or edits for me. Because they just make my day. See you, guys.**

**Peace,**

**Specter**


	4. Chapter 4

**Whoo-ee, it's been a while hasn't it? Apologies, to any of you who follow this story. When I'm not wishing I could gouge my eyes out because of Microeconomics or some other class, I'm usually doing something else of importance, like college applications some nonsense like that. That, or playing video games. Yeah...**

**Anyway, I need to give credit where credit is due. I could not remember for the life of me how the conversation at the mill went, and had absolutely no desire to look up a video or play through the part for what could very well be the twenty-second time. Therefore, I used the conversation in another fic by SpiritSouls called "earning your place", under the assumption that he/she remained at least close to the in game conversation. Thank you SpiritSouls, for sparing me a trip to youtube and a headache.**

**Enjoy the chapter.**

**(PS There is little to no action in this chapter, so I tried to include a tiny bit of humor to make up for it.)**

* * *

Chapter 4

Mira squinted, trying to shut out the bright afternoon light. Though the sun sharply illuminated the landscape, it seemed to do nothing to provide warmth. Each time she breathed in, she received a lungful of dry, crisp air that sent chills down her back. Each time she breathed out, her breath formed a thick cloud that dissipated a short distance from her mouth. She pulled the robes around her tighter, so as to ward off the chill in the air.

The weather left much to be desired, in her opinion, but the view was amazing. In the distance, mountains lined the horizon, ragged snow-tipped peaks reaching out for the heavens. A clear blue sky stretched on endlessly, the open air gently pushing frothy clouds onward in their sluggish journey across the sweeping expanse. A forest stretched out in front of them, small creatures skittering about through the underbrush. The thin, tall trees stood straight, like sentries guarding the entrance to the forest. Frost clung to their leaves, yet they remained green. The plants were similar to the inhabitants of the land; tough enough to survive the weather and too stubborn to move anywhere warmer.

She was still gawking at the scenery when something tackled her side with enough force to send her sailing through the air a good few feet. When she landed, she realized that the thing that had attacked her was Ralof, and he was currently lying right next to her in the undergrowth near a large stone. She was about to ask what had gotten into him, when he gave her the same look he had when they were about to ambush the imperials near the gate, raising a finger to his lips as he did so. He pointed upward with his other hand.

A roar echoed across the landscape; deep, powerful, and angry. The sound seemed to reverberate off of the mountains, carrying across the vast terrain that made up the land of Skyrim. Birds that had been roosting in the trees now scattered in various directions, swarming off to find some place to hide from the only creature that shared their domain. Foxes, rabbits, lizards, and snakes retreated into burrows, seeking shelter from the winged beast.

A shadow passed over Mira and Ralof's shelter, and she found herself silently praying to the divines that the creature did not see them beneath the shrubs and bushes that partially obscured them from above. Her prayers, it seemed, were answered when the shadow continued moving across the ground unhindered, without the slightest faltering. It either saw no sign of them, or had given up looking. She hoped for the second.

She rolled over onto her back to get back to her feet, and noticed an outstretched hand. She took it, and was quickly pulled to her feet.

"Sorry about that," Ralof said meekly. "No time to warn you, I just had to act."

"No, it's not a problem," She replied, dusting off her trousers and robes. "If it had seen us, I might have been upset, though."

He smirked for a moment, but it faded once he remembered her current condition. The arrow wound on her left calf that had easily torn through a large amount of muscle. The spider bite on her upper right arm was large enough to be a stab wound, and the area had swollen up a bit. On top of all this, she had an assortment of angry looking scrapes and welts that must have been painful as well.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. "That frostbite looked like it got you good." He decided to draw attention to the most immediate danger. The frostbite spider's venom was the only thing that still seemed to be a threat.

"Frostbite?" she asked, looking herself up and down. Of all of the souvenirs that she had collected in the keep, she wasn't aware of any frostbite.

"The spider," he explained.

As if summoned by the mere mention of the creature, Mira became sharply aware of a throbbing pain in her sword arm. She reached up to cover the bloodied bandages with her left hand, and felt the flesh pulsing slightly beneath the sticky cloth. She winced slightly at the contact, but tried to keep a level tone when she answered him.

"It's fine."

"Like oblivion, it's fine!" He responded, clearly not buying her dismissal of the wound. "Didn't you take any healing potions from that room?"

She checked. A few potions of stamina and one potion of majika remained. It didn't appear as though the empire was expecting anyone to be injured within the keep. She shook her head.

"Troll's blood," he muttered. "Come on, I'm going to head to Riverwood. It's a small village not more than a day's hike from here. My sister Gerdur runs a mill there. I'm sure she'll help us out."

She was about to argue, remind him that not everyone in Skyrim was as inclined to help elves as much as he and his Stormcloak compatriots had, but she decided against it. Perhaps, no matter how unlikely, this Gerdur person would have some kind of food that wasn't stale or old. Maybe she would be kind and give her some fresh bread and meat before sending her on her way.

That hope was what she kept in mind when she agreed to come along with the Stormcloak.

"Lead the way."

His face broke into a wide grin, and he immediately set off along a path through the forest, talking animatedly as he did. He spoke of his rebel brothers and sisters, his family, his life before and during the war, and just about anything else that came to his mind. Mira, on her part, didn't contribute much to the conversation, only adding her input every now and again. He didn't seem to mind, though. He continued talking enough for the both of them.

He came to a halt abruptly. She nearly bumped into him again, but managed to come to an ungraceful stop a few centimeters away. He stood, absolutely still and silent, for a moment, glaring into the distance. Just as she was about to ask what had happened, he suddenly spoke.

"Bleak Falls Barrow," he said flatly, an eerie kind of detachment sneaking into his tone.

Mira followed his gaze, her eyes falling onto some type of ruin built into the side of a mountain directly ahead of them. Several arches of varying size made up a majority of the ruin; statues perched at the top, watching over everything in the land beyond. A stone staircase could be seen leading up through the area beneath these grand structures, leading to some kind of entrance at the top. It was difficult to see from their current distance.

"I never understood how my sister could stand living in the shadow of that place," He said, still deep in thought.

"I suppose you get used to it," Mira suggested.

"Perhaps. You know, when I was young, I used to have nightmares of drauger creeping down in the dead of night and cutting our throats as we slept," He said, a forced grin making its way to his face. Clearly he was trying to dismiss the fears as something from his youth, but some part of it still bothered him.

As much as she hated to cause any memories to resurface, she had to ask.

"Drauger?"

"Ancient Nord legend says that the drauger were once men that revered the dragons. As punishment for their worship of the beasts, they were forced to spend eternity wandering the halls of dungeons and crypts beneath the ground. They were no longer alive, but neither were they fully dead. I can't imagine a worse fate."

"Is it true? The undead still roam in places like that?" Mira asked, gesturing toward Bleak Falls Barrow. She tried in vain to suppress a shudder, one having nothing to do with the chill weather.

"The legends are all too real. I've seen the abominations before," he said, his tone serious.

He looked at her.

"It's not too hard to believe, is it? After what we've seen today?"

She merely shook her head.

"Come on," He urged, continuing the journey down the beaten path. "Let's get moving."

Eventually the path came to a sharp curve to the right, continuing along a large river that carved through the landscape. At the curve, however, were three stones. Mira approached them, and observed them in further detail. The stones were carved into curved shapes vaguely reminiscent of tombstones. Each one had a symbol carved into it; symbols that she recognized from illustrations in several books she had read.

The stone on the left had a hooded figure illustrated on its surface. The figure gripped a dagger in one hand, drawn back and prepared to strike down its foes. The second stone had the symbol of the mage, an imposing figure with a bright light formed in his hand, a testament to the power of the arcane arts. On the last stone was the symbol of the warrior. This one was an image of a powerful looking man sporting heavy armor, clutching a great sword with both hands.

Mira had unconsciously walked into the center of the stone platform on which the three stones were situated. She looked between the three, admiring the artwork on each, even as questions swarmed her mind. What was the purpose of such stones? Why were they out here? Most importantly, who had carved them?

She was snapped out of her reverie by Ralof's booming voice.

"The guardian stones, three of the ancient standing stones that dot Skyrim's landscape."

She made an absent-minded _mhmm _sound as acknowledgement.

"Go ahead," He encouraged. "Take a look."

She looked at each stone again. She already considered herself a rather good warrior and rogue, able to sneak into a bandit camp without any issue, and if discovered, fight her way out easily. However, she was rather new to magic, only knowing the candlelight spell, and a few destruction spells for good measure. She had always found magic interesting, and learned that she had a natural affinity for it.

Without thinking, she reached forward and placed her hand on the surface of the mage stone. It was smooth, even the illustration did nothing to disturb the even texture of the ancient tablet. It was warm, not surprising, seeing as it was midday, and the sun had been hitting the stones directly. Her one surprise was that nothing actually happened. She had half expected some kind of brilliant beam to fly out of the stone and into the heavens, what with the day that she had been having so far. But no such occurrence ensued.

"Mage, eh? Not what I would have chosen," Ralof commented. "Not that I'm judging, mind you. Just a bit surprised. You seem like a warrior to me, the way that you cut down the Imperials in the keep."

"Thank you," She replied, slowly stepping away from the stone. "… I think," She added.

He laughed, heartily. "Come on, let's move."

The two left the guardian stones behind continuing down the path. The sun continued to travel slowly across the sky, having moved a noticeable amount before Ralof said, for the second time in as many hours, "We're almost there. Not much further now."

"Oh? So only a few more hours, then?" She asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Minutes, actually." He retorted.

As promised, a few more minutes of trekking through the forest brought them to the front gate of a small village, if it could indeed be called a gate. A stone wall stood around the perimeter of the village, about three meters in height. It wasn't meant to hold off a siege by a legion of enemy soldiers, but it would provide some protection against bandits. Even then, it was most likely just there for the residents of the town to have some sense of security when they laid their heads to rest at night.

The town itself was actually rather nice, in Mira's opinion. It was a small village, made up of maybe a dozen homes that could each fit a small family. It gave off the impression of an enclosed, tightly knit community; one that housed residents that all knew each other well, and perhaps depended on each other to keep the town running.

Mira and Ralof entered the village, passing through the barricade surrounding it with no resistance. The one sentry that stood watch in a guard tower built into the wall took no interest in stopping the duo as they entered, instead seeming to be more interested in shining his blade with slow, deliberate stokes of a cloth. A few steps into the town Mira noticed people hard at work. A man tilled the soil around his home, no doubt preparing it for new crops. A blacksmith ran a blade along a grindstone, his eyes not leaving his work, even as sparks jumped out at him.

Various people walked along the same road as Mira and Ralof, chatting with each other and going about their business. None seemed to take notice of the two strangers amongst them. Or, rather, didn't care. Strangers must have passed through often, she reasoned. Perhaps this town was close to a larger city, or maybe it was along a major trade route.

Mira stopped in her tracks when she noticed something: she had lost track of her escort. She stood, dumbly, in the center of the road, scanning the faces around her. She felt very much like a young girl that had lost her mother in the marketplace. How could she lose sight of such a large man so easily?

Suddenly, an iron grip locked around her left upper arm, and began dragging her along. At first, she struggled, noticing for the first time just how weak and off balance she felt. She then relaxed when she heard a familiar voice.

"You're distracted easily, aren't you?"

"Today isn't one of my better days, but that's what I have you here for", Mira said. Ralof chuckled light heartedly.

"So where is this sister of yours?"

"Well now I definitely know you weren't paying attention. I said she's probably working at her mill, just behind here," he answered, leading Mira around the blacksmith's forge. Sure enough, a large lumber mill came into view, currently in use. The large structure of stone and timber generated a huge amount of noise as the saw shredded through the log currently being fed through it. The blonde man standing near the saw wiped sweat from his brow, and turned, preparing to load another.

They rounded the mill and, looking up the path, Mira saw a woman chopping wood. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't even notice their approach, not until Ralof called out to her in a cheerful tone.

"Gerdur!"

The woman froze mid swing. She turned, a disbelieving look painting her features. This quickly changed to a wide, toothy smile when she noticed the man approaching her. She dropped the tool, ran to her brother and threw her arms around him in a joyous embrace.

"Brother! Mara's mercy, it's good to see you!" She pulled back, and Mira couldn't help but notice their similarities. They had the same fair skin, blonde hair, and bright blue eyes. Her face suddenly turned serious. "But is it safe for you to be here? We heard that Ulfric had been captured..."

"Gerdur..." Ralof tried, drawing no noticeable change from his sibling. She continued to fuss over him, as expected from family. "Gerdur, I'm fine," He insisted.

"Are you hurt? What's happened?" She looked at Mira, seemingly noticing her for the first time. "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

"This is Mira." Ralof introduced his travelling companion, continuing on with a smile. "She's not a comrade yet, but she is a friend. I owe her my life, in fact." Mira raised an eyebrow at his use of the word 'yet', but he continued anyway, apparently not noticing. "Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials..."

"Helgen?" Gerdur asked, surprise evident in her voice. "Has something happened?" She stopped, glancing around as if to see if someone was listening in on the exchange. "You're right. Follow me." Cupping one hand to her mouth, she called up to the mill, shouting over the sound of the sawblade carving through lumber. "Hod! Come here a minute! I need your help with something."

"What is it woman?" A man's voice called back as the mill ceased its constant racket. The man that Mira had noticed working at the mill when she first arrived appeared at the ledge of the structure, looking down at the group.

"Hod. Just come here." He grunted in irritation, but his tone changed quickly when he noticed just who it was that his wife was speaking to.

"Ralof! What are you doing here!" He asked in disbelief as he descended via the pile of lumber stacked in front of the mill. He ran over and clasped Ralof's hand, giving it a firm shake. The group walked over to a spot nearer to the river, and settled down on the stumps of two large trees, Mira seated next to Ralof, Gerdur by her husband. Mira pulled the hood on her robes back, and untied her ponytail. Her hair immediately draped across her shoulders, even as she wrapped the thin strip of cloth that had held it in place around her wrist. The sound of footsteps approaching rapidly made Mira reach for her sword before she realized that the footsteps belonged to a young boy. Following close behind him was what Mira believed to be either a large dog or a small bear. The child, whom Mira assumed to be her hosts' son, judging by his similar features, immediately approached Ralof, shooting off questions almost faster than Mira could register them.

"Uncle Ralof! Can I see your axe? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?"

Thankfully, Gerdur stopped the maddening flow of questions just as Mira began to contemplate whether drawing her sword would have been a good idea after all.

"Hush, Frodnar. This is no time for your games." She pointed back the way the boy had come. "Go and watch the south road. Come find us if you see any Imperials coming." The little boy pouted, immediately beginning to plead with his mother.

"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with Uncle Ralof!" Mira brought her hand up to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. Ralof apparently noticed, and bumped her with his shoulder. Mira looked over at the man, her face apparently betraying her current irritation. _Watch_, he mouthed.

"Look at you, almost a grown man!" Ralof exclaimed, smiling broadly. Mira couldn't wait to see where this was going. "Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself." Frodnar beamed at the praise, puffing out his chest ever so slightly.

"That's right! Don't worry, Uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" With that, Frondar took off running to in the direction indicated by his mother, the bear-dog barking excitedly behind him all the while. Mira was actually impressed.

"Now Ralof, what's going on?" Hod inquired, snapping Mira back to the conversation. "You look pretty well done in." Ralof's face suddenly fell, the energy and enthusiasm that he had displayed so fervently since their journey had begun seemingly sapped from his body.

"I can't remember when I last slept..." He said, his voice trailing off as he attempted to recall the details from his recent venture. "Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us at Darkwater crossing. That was... two days ago, now." Mira was taken aback. _Two days?_ She'd been unconscious for that long? "We stopped in Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Imperials had us lined up to the headsman's block and ready to start chopping."

"The cowards!" Gerdur exclaimed, her voice laced with venom. Apparently, hatred for the empire was hereditary. Her hands curled into fists, only relaxing when her husband placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then." Ralof paused. Mira knew what happened next. Undoubtedly he was trying to collect his words, figure out how to phrase this next part without sounding positively mad. "But then... out of nowhere... a dragon attacked..." Apparently he chose to be direct. Gerdur seemed skeptical for a fleeting moment, but seemed to accept the truth when she saw the expression on her sibling's face.

"You don't mean a real, live..."

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there." Ralof said. It was true, of course. If Mira hadn't been there, she'd have dismissed him as drunk or crazy at the mention of the formerly mythical beast. Yet, here she was, mere hours after having survived an attack by one. "As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away." His expression turned to one of grim realization. "Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?" Gerdur nodded gravely.

"Nobody else has come up the south road today, as far as I know."

Ralof breathed a deep sigh, one that carried exasperation, exhaustion, and relief at the day nearly being over all at once. "Good... Maybe we can lay up for a while. I hate to put your family in danger Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense. You and your friend are welcome to stay here as long as you need to." She offered Ralof a hand, which he gratefully accepted, rising to his feet once more. "For now, let me show you to the house. It's getting late anyway, and you both look like you could use food and rest."

She offered Mira a hand as well, bringing her to her feet. As she stood, the ground seemed to drop a bit beneath her feet, and her weight seemed to shift drastically. She stumbled, but managed to catch her balance before falling.

"Are you well?" She heard the other woman's voice say. It sounded as though it was being shouted across a great distance, echoing slightly.

_I'm fine_. Mira tried to say, but instead found that her mouth would not obey her commands. She dropped in a heap onto the ground, her vision fading to black.

* * *

**In case you are, for some reason, unclear as to what is wrong with our elf heroine, allow me to put it in perspective for you. She was bitten in the arm by a spider roughly the size of a grizzly bear, which injected lethal venom into her blood stream. There you go.**

**Anyway guys, thanks always for reading and hey, submit a review if you've got the time. Corrections, praise, flame... it's all the same to me, I love feedback regardless. Also big thanks to Amber68 for reviewing the last chapter. You keep me going!**

**Alrighty guys, I'm shutting this computer down, and then I'm shutting down for the night.**

**PeAcE**

**Specter**


	5. Chapter 5

**My goodness, first I don't update for months at a time, and now twice in one week. (I think)**

**Anyhow, I just really want to get the obligatory intro over and done with, so hopefully this chapter didn't come out as rushed as I think it might be. One interesting note, I've once again been reading the Hobbit and my writing seems to have taken on a bit of Tolkien's writing style, non intentionally. Crazy thing though, I kinda like it. Let me know what you guys think and I may go back and edit some old chapters to make it flow a bit better (Specifically the first chapter of this)**

**Those of you who have played the game may notice that later in the chapter there is a character that is not in the game. That is because he is one of my other characters that was actually a runner up to be the main character in this story, and I had to include him. He's my second favorite profile, what can I say.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter!**

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Chapter 5

An arrow sailed through the air, meeting its mark. The metal tip sunk deep into the bag of sand nailed to the trunk of a tree a good distance from the one holding the bow. The young elf girl shrieked in excitement, making an energetic leap as she did so.

A Khajiit, bearing grey fur with black stripes running through it, and an elf, with fair skin, black hair, and blue eyes stood in a clearing. Both wore light tunics and trousers, simply for modesty's sake, as they provided no protection from attack or cold. In a way, neither were needed. The area that the pair's caravan was travelling through was known to have fair weather, and the group knew how to avoid routes and areas known as bandit country.

"Excellent work, Dar'Miradeth," The Khajiit said. "Soon you will be the best shot of us all." He gave a warm smile to accompany the approval and pride in his voice. The grey furred Khajiit was always astounded at the progress that the elf made.

They were an odd pair, to be sure, but the Khajiit couldn't care less what others thought. The divines had given him a second chance at being a father, and he'd be damned if he was going to waste it.

"Thanks, Papa!" The little elf beamed, her smile growing so large, if it had been any wider, it would've split her face in two.

The Khajiit laughed. "Go on," He encouraged. "Try it again."

She was happy to oblige. He had given her the smaller bow as a gift, so that she could practice her archery with a weapon that wasn't as big as she was. She had loved it.

She yanked another arrow from the line that was from protruding from the ground next to her. She set it onto the string, pulling back slowly.

"Can I ask you something?" She requested, closing one eye to aim at the small target.

"Ask away child," He said, placing a hand against her back and pushing slightly to correct her posture for the shot. He had long ago grown used to the streams of questions flowing from her curious mind. She was inquisitive about every subject; science, history, the daedra and the divines. He was always willing to answer them all, which was no easy feat. Not many children asked questions about Tamriel's geography or the Oblivion Crisis. He didn't know where she had even heard of that. Still, he tried his best to sate her curiosity, even if he had to 'collect' a few books on the subjects himself.

"Why do you call me _Dar_'Miradeth?" She asked, letting the arrow fly. It hit the bag, nearly dead center.

"Because that is your name!" He said, whiskers twitching with mirth.

"You know what I mean, Papa. The other elves we've met have names like 'Falicia' or 'Allena' or something. And only the Khajiit boys here have stuff like 'Dar' or 'Do' in their names, not the girls." She said.

The Khajiit, known as Dar'Zah, breathed a deep sigh, sitting heavily on a fallen tree trunk. The morning air was cool, and fresh. The caravan had chosen a good spot to stop and rest.

He took in his surroundings, admiring the wilds of Cyrodiil. Around him birds sang, and little creatures hopped from tree branch to tree branch, or scuttled through the underbrush. The clearing that he and his daughter had settled in wasn't very wide, so the branches of the trees around them still reached over them, only allowing thin columns of sunlight to filter through. The breeze that drifted by caused a subtle rustling in the canopy above them.

He looked back down at the elf and realized that she was still staring at him, her head tilted slightly to one side, and one ear perked slightly higher than the other. (He wasn't certain as to how, exactly, she did that) She was still waiting for an answer. He sighed again, contently this time, and patted his lap, gesturing for her to sit. She leaned her bow up against the tree trunk and, with some effort, scrambled up to sit. Dar'Zah couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Sometimes, when discussing philosophy or teaching her archery, he forgot that she was still just a small child. It was moments like this that reminded him.

She shifted a bit and crossed her legs, getting into a comfortable position.

"Do you remember what 'Dar' means?" He began.

It took but a moment for her to remember their language lessons. "Thief, but-"

He held up a hand to stop her. "And do you remember why I have the name?"

"Because you can steal a man's socks without taking off his shoes, Papa!" She remembered the exaggerated tale that was told to the children well. He noted that she said it with a bit more enthusiasm and pride than he felt comfortable with, considering the subject.

"That's right," He said.

"But why call me that? I haven't even stolen anything yet."

"You clearly forgot what the name also means."

She simply stared blankly.

"'Dar' can also mean 'clever', Mira. And that is one thing that you most certainly are."

She scrunched up her nose a bit and squinted her eyes slightly; her 'thinking' face. Once again, he couldn't help but chuckle.

"I like it," She said, finally. "Ok, next question." She said, clearly ready to move on.

"How did you find me?"

That caught the Khajiit off guard. He had read up on the constellations for the inevitability of an astronomy question, and had even gone as far as to study up on Elven history. He most certainly wasn't ready for that question. His mouth hung open for a second, unable to call forth any sound.

"I mean," She continued, "I'm the only elf here, and it's pretty obvious that I wasn't born here…"

He still wasn't sure what to say. He had gotten so used to thinking of her as his own flesh and blood that he wasn't even sure that he remembered the answer to her question.

"Mira, where you came from is unimportant…" He tried, trying to form coherent sentences. "What matters is that you're here now. You have food, clothing, and a Papa that loves you, right?"

Her head drooped slightly, disappointed in his lack of an answer. "I guess you're right."

"Hey," the Khajiit said, placing a clawed finger under her chin and pulling her head back up, so she would look at him. "Another time, and I will answer your question. I won't promise you that it'll be next time, but sometime soon."

"Okay," she replied, her face already brightening up a bit. She threw her arms about his waist, as far as they could reach, and hugged him tightly. "Either way, I'm glad you found me Papa."

The Khajiit returned the embrace, a smile pulling at the edges of his mouth.

"Well, come on," he said, lifting her off of his lap and placing her on the ground as he stood. "It's almost time for food."

"Good, I'm hungry!" She said, walking alongside her father.

She suddenly stopped, whirled around, grabbed her bow, and ran back to catch up with him.

"Almost forgot it!"

* * *

Bread. Bread and soup of some kind. The first thing that Mira noticed upon waking was that there was in fact food, either being prepared or already made, nearby. That alone was enough to make her open her eyes and pick herself up into a sitting position. Or, rather, try to. When she tried to move, a hand rested on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

"Easy," Said a voice. She recognized it as Ralof's sister, Gerdur.

"'m okay," Mira said softly, still a bit groggy. "Stomach hurts-"

"Understandable. You haven't eaten anything for three days now!"

This time, no surprise came to Mira when she was told that she had been out for another day. With the way that she was feeling earlier, she was actually surprised that she hadn't slept longer. Her stomach had apparently objected to the idea, waking her from her slumber to acquire sustenance.

"Here, now. Let me help you."

Mira's vision was beginning to clear, and she could now see the room that she was in, as well as the other woman that was currently propping her up against the headboard of the small bed. The room had a distinctly homely feel to it, walls built from wood no doubt chopped within the town, with a dresser in against one wall, a dining area, a cooking area, and beds for a small family.

"Here," Gerdur said, placing a tray on Mira's lap. On it was a bowl, filled with a thick stew containing vegetables and meat, and some bread, freshly baked, it seemed. Mira immediately went to work devouring all of the food, thinking as she did so. It was not uncommon for her to dream of her childhood, or other points throughout her youth, but for some reason her dream from the previous night bothered her. She was not the kind of person to cling to the past, even happier days... And yet she dreamed that she was with her papa again. The dream had been extremely vivid, as well. She really had felt like a young, naive girl once again, clinging to her father, as if he were her unfaltering guardian against an unforgiving world. She had long since moved past such beliefs.

"How are you feeling?" Gerdur asked once Mira was finished.

"Better," she replied, truthfully.

"No wooziness or anything?"

"No, really. I'm fine," She insisted. With a small amount of effort, she brought herself to her feet to emphasize her point.

Gerdur, having fought against Mira the entire time that she was trying to get up, finally conceded, taking the elf's word that she was okay. Mira noticed that she was wearing an informal dress, most likely Gerdur's, judging by the way that the cloth collected in a heap at her feet. Gerdur had a bit of height on Mira, so her clothing was longer, as expected.

"Here, for whenever you wish to change," Gerdur said, holding out the robes that Mira had acquired inside the keep. "I would give you something else, but it's all that we have that fits you, so I cleaned it, and sewed up the damage." Gerdur said, seemingly proud that she had both the skills expected of a woman of a household, as well as the skills to help her husband in his trade.

The robes looked better than they had when she had first acquired them, that was for certain. What she had initially believed to be brown was actually a light tan color when properly washed. Also, the green was far more pronounced than it had been before.

"Here, take this as well. Put it on underneath the robes." Gerdur said, handing over a leather cuirass, as well as leather boots and vambraces.

"Planning to send me off to war with your brother?"

"No, but if you wish to survive in Skyrim, it may be a good idea to wear some kind of protection at all times."

Mira considered it for a moment, before nodding. "Okay. Thank you for the advice," She said. She held up the cuirass. "And the armor," She added.

"It was no trouble. Ralof actually paid Alvor to do the job with some of the gold that you acquired from Helgen."

Ralof. She had almost forgotten about him. "Where is he anyway?"

"He is over in the Trader's shop with Hod, getting some supplies for your trip."

"Trip?" Mira asked.

"You didn't know?" Gerdur asked. Mira shook her head.

"Ralof told us that he was headed to Windhelm to rejoin the fight. He said that along the way he'd drop you off at Whiterun. We were hoping that you'd be able to let the Jarl know what's been happening around here, what with the dragons and all."

Mira wasn't sure how she felt about practically being shoved out of the door not even a few hours after waking, but she figured that it would be horribly rude to accept someone's hospitality and not even repay it with a simple task. Finally she agreed, much to the relief of Gerdur.

After getting dressed in the surprisingly well-fitting armor, the rest of the day consisted of preparing for the next step in her journey. The trip to Whiterun, as she understood, would take about a day to complete. Then when she arrived, she would tell the Jarl about the dragons, and then—Then what? She hadn't planned that far ahead. Perhaps she would find a way to make some gold to continue her nomadic lifestyle that she had been living in recent years. Or perhaps the divines, who seemed to take great amusement in throwing unexpected events her way, would throw new obstacles in her path.

It was with this in mind that she said her goodbyes to Ralof's family, and continued with said Nord along the road to Whiterun. They walked for long hours in the first day, their lengthy expedition continuing well into the evening, after the sun had dipped behind the mountains in the distance. Of course, the entire time had been filled with Ralof talking, more excitably than the last time. Clearly he was in much higher spirits now, after seeing his sister once again after so long.

What wasn't expected was that Mira was talking quite a bit as well. She found that not only had Ralof's family fed and clothed her, but they had also taken the liberty of healing her wounds a bit (whether through some form of magic or natural healing herbs or something of the like she did not know), and she was truly feeling immensely better. Better than she had in weeks, in fact. In her vastly improved mood, she quickly became very sociable once again, speaking animatedly about her own adventures through the provinces of Tamriel. She told him that she was born shortly after the end of the void nights, sometime near the collapse of Winterhold, which she knew of, though she had never seen the town herself. She spoke of her life as a nomad throughout the second half of the second century of the fourth era. (She was, after all, an elf, and had lived a good long time for any race of men, and would most likely live a good deal longer.)

When they set up camp for the night, (well off the trail and within the woods) she wove a tale of the great war between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion; a story which held Ralof at rapt attention. She had been in Hammerfell when the Thalmor had attacked, and had watched as their troops butchered any who stood in their way. Her recounting of the event had only given Ralof more reason to spout angry comments concerning the empire. Eventually, it seemed, he tired himself out, and fell asleep on his bed roll that his family had provided. The duty of keeping watch then fell to Mira, who spent a majority of the night tending to the fire that they had built, stirring the embers and occasionally collecting firewood.

* * *

When the next morning dawned, they put the fire out and set off once more along the road. The conversation was not quite as animated as the day before, but it still carried well, only hitting the occasional lull, in which neither party could think of anything to say. These moments were few and far between, however, as one of the two would think of something to talk about and the conversation would pick back up once again.

They at last came to a fork in the road, one route leading across a river, skirting along the edge of a great mountain towering before them, and the other led in the general direction of a large city with an ancient, crumbling wall around it. Still, the city appeared to be built to withstand a siege, and the walls still held strong against their greatest enemy of all: time. Mira had no doubt that the fortress city was the one that she sought out.

She turned to Ralof. "I suppose this is goodbye," She said, sadness creeping into her voice despite her efforts to keep it out of her tone. It couldn't be helped, of course. She was saying goodbye to her only real friend in the freezing, uninhabitable province.

He seemed to shrug off the disappointment in her voice. "We'll meet again. Once you stop by Windhelm and join us in our struggle, that is."

"You certainly don't lack for confidence," She commented.

He shrugged. "It's gotten me this far, why change things now?" He asked, a grin catching the edges of his lips.

With that, he latched onto her forearm. "Good luck," He said, with no small degree of finality.

"And to you as well, Ralof."

They parted ways, Ralof beginning the rest of his great trek across the Province that would no doubt take him weeks, at least, and Mira walking toward her destination. Nearly as soon as she had begun walking her own way, she felt a sudden stab of loneliness, all too aware of the fact that the number of people who she felt she could trust had suddenly dropped back to zero. She berated herself for her own weakness, fighting down the sudden surge of emotions appearing after leaving her friend. She was far stronger now than she had been in her youth, both physically and mentally. She no longer needed people to depend on. No longer needed anyone else to protect her.

She trudged on, her road taking her across a large, open plain that still had remnants of morning fog settled across the expanse, giving it an eerie look. Bones of massive mammoths could be seen here and there, not yet collected by the living members of their herds, to be taken to one of their 'graveyards'. As she drew nearer to the city, she took notice of the several farms and other buildings scattered throughout the plains.

A deep rumbling suddenly caught her attention. It was a subtle thud, happening at irregular intervals. Her hair was once again pulled back into its standard ponytail, falling over her right shoulder, and her pointed ears were free from any obstruction. Her left ear perked up at the sound, straining to find the source. Eventually, she settled on a direction and began to head that way, travelling at a slow jogging pace. It wasn't long before she found the source.

A giant- a very angry giant- was engaged in combat with four warriors near what appeared to be a farm house. Mira quickly climbed to the roof of the small building (without attracting the attention of any involved in the commotion) and took a seat at the very top to observe the combatants. A burly man with black hair and steel armor, a thinner man with short brown hair and a trimmed beard to match wearing iron armor, a tanned woman with dark black hair donning what appeared to be armor made from animal hide, and lastly, a fair skinned, red haired woman wearing armor unlike any that Mira had seen before; caught somewhere in a middle-ground between revealing and protective. The latter also had three distinct green scars painted across her face.

The red-haired woman fired arrows into the beast's side, and the other three engaged the creature, taking turns drawing its attention with what seemed to be well-coordinated strikes. This seemed to work; for a little while, at least. Eventually, the giant learned the pattern that its attackers were using, and turned on the black haired Nord man when it was his turn to strike. It drew its arm back, and swung in a wide arc, putting all of its strength behind the one blow. The impact sent the man reeling backwards, his sword flying from his hands, embedding itself into the ground a few meters away.

"Farkas!" The dark skinned woman shouted. The giant lumbered toward its fallen opponent, apparently intending on thinning the attackers' numbers by one to allow itself a better chance at victory.

Mira decided that she was finished observing, and ready to act. She had two weapons at her disposal. The imperial sword that she still had from the keep (which had been sharpened), and a new hunting bow provided by the man named Alvor that Gerdur had spoken of. She decided on the second.

She leaped off of the roof, firing an arrow as she dropped. It buried itself deep into the Giant's back, which caused all heads to turn in her direction, including the giant's. It turned, giving an angry bellow as it did so, and raised its club high into the air. The warriors all watched with growing interest as this newcomer dove to the side, avoiding the giant's downward strike, regained her footing, and ran up the creature's arm. From there she ran up to stand on the beast's shoulders, drawing the string on her bow back. She then let an arrow fly directly into the giant's skull, implanting itself deep into the monster's brain.

Mira kept her balance on the giant's shoulders as it fell, and casually stepped off as it impacted on the ground with a loud thud. She stepped away from the body and toward the warriors, nonchalantly straightening her robes as she did. One of the many things that she had learned over the years was how to make a first impression if she wished to.

The brown-haired man was the first to react, giving a few enthusiastic claps with a broad grin on his face. "Well done," He commented. "First, I get to see Farkas knocked on his arse, and then watch a stranger take down a giant as though it were a torchbug. I might just be starting to like you already!" He was evidently trying to ease the sudden tension in the air with humor.

"Who the hell is that? And what was she doing involving herself in the companions' business?" The apparently ungrateful black haired man asked.

"'What she's doing' is saving your sorry hide from being skinned and worn as that giant's loincloth," The first man retorted, giving his larger comrade a solid clap on the back.

The dark haired man seemed to think for a moment, weighing his response, before nodding slightly. "Thanks," He said to Mira. It wasn't very enthusiastic, but it sounded genuine, at least.

"I won't turn down the help, but I am interested to find out who you are," The red-haired woman interjected. "You handled yourself well. You could make for a decent shield-sister."

"Shield-sister?" Mira asked, making no attempt to hide her confusion.

"An outsider, eh? Never heard of the companions?" Mira shook her head.

"Ah, well. I'm Aela, this is Farkas, that's Soren, and Ria's the other woman over there."

The black-haired man and the brown-haired one, respectively, nodded their heads as they were introduced. The other woman was apparently busy searching the giant. Giant's pockets often contained all sorts of goodies and trinkets. It was not uncommon to find large coin pouches or gems within, though the trick was actually getting into their pockets. Downing or pick pocketing a giant wasn't a task to be taken lightly.

"Mira," She introduced herself, the one word greeting rapidly becoming easier. The red-haired woman nodded and continued.

Aela nodded. "We're part of an old order of warriors; brothers and sisters in honor. We're the ones that show up solve problems, settle disputes, and occasionally," She gestured to the fallen creature, "Kill giants and other beasts."

"If the coin is good enough," Farkas chimed in.

That sounded like as good a way to make gold as any.

"Can I join you?" Mira asked.

Aela's mouth stretched into a thin line. "Not for me to say. You'll have to talk to Kodlak Whitemane up in Jorrvaskr," she told Mira. "The old man has a good sense for people. He can look into your eyes and tell your worth."

Mira wasn't really sure how to respond to that. The idea of an old man peering into her soul worried her slightly. Instead of voicing this, however, she decided to simply put up a brave front. "I need to speak with the Jarl first," She began. "Then I'll speak to this Kodlak."

"Well when you go to him," Aela said, already walking off. "Good luck."

Two of the others followed quickly, but the brown haired one (Soren, if she remembered correctly) remained behind for a moment. His eyes, a dark grey color reminiscent of storm clouds, studied her intensely for a brief moment, all of the good-spirited jesting gone from them.. Then, as if satisfied with what he saw, he nodded, smiling once again. "I'm sure he'll take a liking to you," he said, his confidence reminding her a great deal of Ralof. "You'll be a companion in no time at all. Until next time, Mira."

He walked off, without another word.

This would be an interesting day indeed.

* * *

**So, HAVE any of you read the lord of the rings books, if so, did you notice it too? I sort of did after writing the section.**

**READ THIS PART IF NOTHING ELSE: I would like to beef up the populace of Skyrim, adding new characters into the mix. And I'd like that to be this chapter's (as well as future chapters, if you want) review subject. Tell me about one of your characters. Pick your favorite, give them a backstory, tell me their skills, and I'll try to incorporate them into the fic.**

**Ok guys its nearly 1 AM here and I have school tomorrow. So that means I'm tired. And I just wrote this up now. So there may be mistakes. I'm sorry. I'll try to back later and fix anything I screwed up in my drowsy state. Thanks for bearing with me.**

**Peace,**

**Specter**


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